A Night To Remember
by Current.Obsession
Summary: Oneshot. When Francis wakes up next to a familiar Brit what happens, when Arthur refuses him..? Rated M for sexual themes, but no lemon/yaoi.


"...Mon Dieu...what happened last night...?" Francis mumbled as he let his eyes open in slits. He shifted on his bed, jumping a little when he felt someone next to him. Said someone was buried in the sheets, and Francis slowly reached out to uncover the other's face.

A very familiar blonde was next to him, sleeping peacefully. The smaller man mumbled something in his sleep and moved closer to Francis, his thick eyebrows pushed together slightly, not exactly ready to be woken up yet as he shivered slightly, an arm latching onto Francis' waist.

Francis muttered something in annoyance before slapping the other man's head. This morning had taken an interesting twist. "Wake up, Angleterre."

Arthur grunted in pain and his eyes fluttered open as he turned to glare up at the man who smacked him on the head, but his mouth twisted when he noticed who it was, and quickly let go of him, moving to the other side of the bed. "What the actual fuck..?"

"That is what I am wondering," he said slowly, moving so that he could rummage through the nearby nightstand. "It seems we have run into a little encounter in my bed, non?"

"What–" He looked around him and his emerald eyes widened a bit. "Huh? What did you do to me, slip something into my bloody drink, you frog?!" he yelled, pulling the sheets around him, searching the floor for his clothes.

"I did no such thing. You just fell for my charm, I am irresistible," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "I apparently coaxed you into bed and you followed my invite willingly."

"'Willingly?'" he asked incredulously. "I obviously didn't come in here willingly. Why in the world would I do that? And you have no charm - you're disgusting." he grimaced and kept his face away from Francis, hiding the blush on his cheeks. He'd never let himself admit in any way that he liked the Frenchman, ever.

"Well I did not force you, yet here we are, in the same bed," he replied, raising a brow in amusement. "We had sex, did we not?"

Arthur stayed quiet for a moment. "...My arse hurts, git..." he muttered uncomfortably, glaring. "Do you even _remember_ what happened? At all?"

"Non, not really. But by your comment, I think it is safe to assume that we did the deed, oui?" He smirked.

"If you don't_ remember_, how can you say 'you did not force me' into your bed?" he asked, furious that it happened, though deep down, he knew he enjoyed it last night, though he didn't remember it either.

"Because I do not force people to sleep with moi," he stated. He turned quickly and made his way over, grasping the Englishman by the leg and pulling him closer to his person. "I can prove it, if you would like."

"Francis, let go of me," he growled, tensing at the contact. "I would not like at all if you did that..!"

"I am sure you were not saying that last night," he said, hand moving quickly. His fingers were at his entrance and putting pressure onto it until- "Ah, so it was still in there."

Arthur blushed furiously and grabbed his hand, shoving it away and closing his legs. "Francis, enough."

Francis chuckled and shrugged, turning away to grab his clothes. "I suppose lying to yourself is best for you."

Arthur pulled the sheets around him to cover himself up, feeling self-conscious and embarrassed about the whole situation, silent and his eyes on his knees, which were drawn close to him.

Francis looked back and then sighed. "What are you doing? Stop acting so strange, it was just sex."

"Sex with _you_," he glared at him and averted his eyes again. "I don't like you. That's why I'm acting 'strange'."

"Do not be a fool," he muttered, standing and pulling his pants on. "It is not a big deal."

"It is for me," he muttered, almost inaudibly. He looked at his hands and wondered _exactly_ what happened.

"Are you going to sit naked in my room for the rest of the day? Not that I mind, I am just asking." He made his way across the room and into the bathroom.

"I was waiting for you to leave the room so I could dress," he hissed, looking in the direction Francis went and got up when he couldn't see Francis from that angle. He got up with a pain in his arse, just like he thought there'd be, and looked all around the bed for his clothes but didn't find anything but a black apron and he went to hide in the bed again, cursing.

Francis returned back into the room not too soon after a semi-long shower, stretching his arms slowly. "Where do you plan on going from here?" He asked, glancing at him as he dried his long hair.

"H-home.." he mumbled, having almost fallen back asleep in the bed, feeling a little cold.

"Are you alright?" he asked, throwing the towel into his hamper, slipping a shirt on over his head. "Where are your clothes?"

The Brit pointed to the end of the bed where he set the apron. "No, I'm not alright.." he grumbled.

"Are you alright other than the fact that you had sex with moi?" he asked, raising a brow.

"Well, you hit me on the head, and now I have a headache, I wasn't finished sleeping, I have no clothes, and It's cold." he complained, keeping his eyes shut.

"Then go back to sleep, you can borrow some of my clothes to get back home, and by the time you wake up the headache will be gone," he said, sitting down onto the bed.

He sighed and opened one eye to look at him. "Thank you, but that doesn't help the fact that I'm still cold.." he sighed, pulling the covers around himself even more.

Francis rolled his eyes and rolled over, wrapping an arm around the Englishman and pulling him close. "How is that?"

Arthur was about to protest, against Francis' movement _and_ his inner desires, but he stopped when he realized just how warm he was and he bit his lip, scooting closer. "I was talking about maybe turning the heater on, but.." he sighed and closed his eyes again. "...Thanks, frog..."

"I could have done that, but it would not be as wonderful," he purred, eyes closed as he stroke the other man's side. "Go to sleep, mon cher, get some rest."

Arthur gave a little huff in annoyance and nuzzled Francis' shoulder, trying to get comfortable. Once he was comfortable, he tried to sleep, though, he couldn't, and something began to bother him. "Francis...?"

Francis let out a soft sigh and shifted carefully. His husky voice gave away that he was nearly half asleep, "Hm?"

Arthur bit his lip when he noticed that he was half asleep. "Why.. why do you always want me, anyway...?" he asked, curious, though quiet, not wanting to bug him much.

Francis was silent for a moment as he nearly dipped into sleep, but he came back to consciousness, "I thought that it was simple, hm...? I have feelings for you, non?"

He blushed gently but paused, thinking. "Then why... Everyone else...?" he mumbled, wondering if he got the question he was trying to ask, unable to shake the jealousy that he felt about it.

He grunted at this, shifting sleepily. "I am a starving man, Angleterre, and they are feasts. I crave connection with people, and that is the easiest and most satisfying way to do it, considering the circumstances."

"...Circumstances..." he mumbled, moving closer to him again, hoping he didn't notice in his sleepy state. "You mean you and I..?"

He nodded slightly, letting out a long breath that came out in a huff. "Oui."

_ One more. Just one more.. _"So.. You'd stop going after them if I liked you..?" he asked, hoping, as he gently nuzzled at his neck.

There was another pause as his mind tried to fall into sleep, but Arthur's voice brought him back once again. "Mm, oui."

Arthur smiled and wrapped an arm around him. "Well..." he started, shyly. "..." really _do_ like you, actually..." he mumbled glancing up at him, and giving a sigh, full of relief, but also disappointment, when he noticed that Francis wasn't awake anymore.

"I love you..." he mumbled, and fell asleep fast.

**Hey. So, Major writer's block for my other story, but I happened to pull a little something out of here for my Heta OTP. Lol, I fail so. oTL **


End file.
